


The Westwind Rips Tears from your Eyes

by musicalgirl4474



Series: Whumptober 2020 [24]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt Alexander Hamilton, Hurt/Comfort, Mutilation, Whumptober 2020, Worried Parent George Washington, as always, hand-wavy medical suff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27188369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalgirl4474/pseuds/musicalgirl4474
Summary: Alexander has been rescued from the prisoner ship, but not in time to save him from mutilation.Whumptober #24You're Not Making Any SenseForced Mutism/Blindfolded/Sensory DeprivationIt's the first one. Kind of. Not quite mute, but, you know. Forced inability to speak.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton & George Washington
Series: Whumptober 2020 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956718
Comments: 9
Kudos: 51





	The Westwind Rips Tears from your Eyes

Washington supported Hamilton all the way back to camp. Fever burned his boy’s skin, and he was boneless against Washington’s chest as he rode in front of the General on his horse. They were not far from camp, and yet the ride seemed to last forever. Washington knew that horrible wounds like the one his boy had suffered could kill easily, and he could do nothing to stop it except get Alexander to Doctor Mann as quickly as possible.

Alexander was still apparently staring at nothing as Washington coaxed him down off the horse once they had made it to the medical tent, and he felt a pang lance through his chest at the vacant eyes.

“What happened to him?” Doctor Mann said, sounding surprised, and Washington was reminded once again of the bloody tableau of his aide’s face.

“They cut out his tongue,” Washington said through gritted teeth. “He also has heavy bruising around his ribs.”

“I will check for broken ribs first,” Doctor Mann said as he gestured to a bed for Washington to lay Hamilton in. “I know the tongue is more shocking, but a broken rib could kill him if left untreated.” Washington wanted to point out that Alexander could die from blood-loss as well, but held himself back. Doctor Mann knew what he was about, and would not appreciate the General’s orders.

It was as Doctor Mann palpated Hamilton’s ribs with his gentle fingers that the boy came alive, startling the General and doctor both. “Uh uh, uh uh, uh uh,” he said, seeming desperate, shaking his head and closing his eyes. Washington had thought he wanted Hamilton to be present, rather than gazing into nothing, but the sheer pain and panic and _fear_ in the boy’s now present eyes made his heart hurt.

“What is wrong, Alexander?” he asked, and could have kicked himself. The boy had no tongue with which to answer. But the boy did try.

“Her-” he said, with an odd kind of hitch in his breath at the end, as if saying-

“Indeed, it must hurt,” Doctor Mann said, “But I need to check for any broken bones, Lieutenant Colonel.” A pained, hiccoughed kind of laugh came from Hamilton’s mouth then, along with a bubble of blood. Good God. Unable to stand the sight of his boy’s face covered in blood for even a second longer, Washington found a clean rag and wet it in order to clean the blood from his aide’s face.

At first, Hamilton shied away from him, and Washington felt a kind of phantom pain shoot down his spine. What must his boy have endured in the two days as a captive to make him so skittish? The bruises on his jaw and cheek became visible once dried and fresh blood had been washed away, and Washington winced in sympathy. Those bruises would be a menagerie of colors before they faded.

It nearly takes Washington’s breath away when he notices that Alexander is crying; the pain of the rag against the bruises along with the doctor’s fingers against pained ribs must be too much added to the pain in his mouth. “Can we give him any laudanum?” he asks Mann, but he shakes his head.

“His ribs appear to be in the correct places, but I’ll need to brace them to keep any fractures from becoming worse. As far as laudanum, I’m sorry Sir, but without his tongue, he may have difficulty swallowing. I need to inspect his mouth before I can make any kinds of plans for food or medicine.”

Washington nods unhappily, pushing wisps of hair back off of Hamilton’s sweaty forehead. And oh, how his heart hurt when Alexander looked up at him with pleading eyes and made the sound like ‘hurt’ again. “I know,” he said desperately, “I know you hurt, only a little longer my boy. Just a little longer.”

**Author's Note:**

> Um. Sorry? There wasn't going to be a sequel to Northwind, but then this prompt . . . so.  
> Also, yeah, it's short. It's almost 2 in the morning and I have, like, 4 projects due next week. Grad school. It's a thing. I need sleep. Catch y'all on the flip side!


End file.
